Elegy of Darkness
by The Transient Wraith
Summary: An Undead is suddenly faced with the proposition of escaping his cell in the asylum, but at what cost? A short Dark Souls fic. Extremely loosely inspired by TwitchPlaysDark. 10 points to anyone who can guess who the narrator is ;).
1. Chapter 1

**ELEGY OF DARKNESS**

 **CHAPTER 1**

There you lay, in the muck and mud. That spot was warm. It had been that way for as long as you could remember. A thick layer of dust and dirt covered your body. You were weak, and had had nothing in the way of food for ages. Your lips were cracked, your hair all but gone, your ribcage protruded, and scars lined your back.

The echoes of your screams for freedom reverberated throughout the asylum for the first few years. No one came, of course, and you fell silent, as all Hollows do. You then took to beating, gnashing, and kicking at the cell door. You quit this venture as well, but only after your knuckles broke, your feet tore, and your teeth shattered. How long had it been since you'd first arrived? Decades? Centuries? The concept of time seemed foreign to you, somehow.

A loud crash pulled you from your thoughts. The body of some other blight had fallen through the sunroof and landed in the middle of the room. Its body was no more broken than yours, though it was adorned with several extra slash marks. Above you, on the sunroof, a knight clad in armor loomed for a moment before he drew back. You hadn't noticed the incredible amount of noise that came from the roof until then; the clang of metal, the screams, and what sounded like the roof caving in. Your bloodshot eyes drifted to the corpse, and you rose to your feet. After pillaging the corpse, you found a key, presumably the key to the door.

The realization crept upon you slowly as you stood there staring blankly at the rotted walls. Your eyes grew wide with elation. You were free. Within a few seconds, they sank once more. You were free. What is the cost of freedom? These walls, these dirt and blood-ridden, rotten walls are your sanctuary, your haven, aren't they? These thoughts blazed through your mind as you thrashed and flailed around the room for hours on end. You threw yourself from wall to wall, falling to accrue a new layer of dirt every few moments.

The door creaked open after you struggled to fit the key through the lock. Your fingers, along with the rest of your body, were battered and bloody from their recent abuse. You paused again. You couldn't possibly leave. You were simply a weakling in a cruel world. A world you weren't meant for. This cell was your home, your life, everything you are; how could you leave it? Your first step was short, but it may as well have been a continental leap. You know not of your fate, Undead.

Your feverish worrying was interrupted by a low growl. Another Hollow was further down the hall, with yellowed eyes and a worn body, much like yours. How had he gotten out? Within an instant, you, with all your might, set upon him, knocking him to the cold brick ground. With your long, unkempt nails, you ripped and clawed into the Hollow's chest, spraying its blood from wall to wall until it twitched no more. You may retain some of your humanity yet, young Hollow. That's what humans do, isn't it? Trample those who stand in your path? You stood over the cadaver, and a fiery black mass appeared over it, somehow being drawn to you. No, you were drawn to it. As the thing dissipated into your body, you suddenly craved more, insatiably so. You began to lose what sanity you had once again. Not for want of security, like the moments prior, but lust for the warmth that you had felt. More. There must be more.

And so you departed in a mad scramble. Never mind your battered figure as it hit clashed with the bricks. You need flame. Before long, you found yourself stumbling into a courtyard of sorts. In the center, there was a sword standing atop a pile of ash, bones, and dust. A rusty old thing, you ignored it at first. You needed a weapon, and a crude, deformed blade such as that would do you as much good as your bare hands. Amusing, how you know so little of the workings of the world. A faint wind breezed past you, carrying a bit of ash from underneath the sword. It was faint, but you heard a whisper on the wind. "Fire," it said. You immediately turned on your heel to look at the thing once more. As if on instinct, you brought your hand to the sword. The ash suddenly sprang to life, twisting and churning as a pillar of fire erupted around the sword. With your cracked lips, you muttered the word "bonfire" and sat beside your discovery.

You were happy. You were content with this feeble flame which stood no taller than a foot. This is not the height of your destiny, you depraved being. Your calling is greater than a mere cinder. As you idled, you felt compelled to reach into the bonfire once more. As you withdrew, your skin returned to its natural pale hue, your many wounds healed, your hair regrew, and your wrinkles faded away. You were human again. The flame cackled, and in its light, you saw more of that black mass, humanity, as it's called. That hunger flared up once more. There must be more out there. More humanity, more fire. Go, little moth, seek your Fire; seek and find solace in warmth.

There was a large door at the top of a short flight of steps near the bonfire. After opening it, you walked in, confident in your stride and purpose. Almost immediately, your resolve was challenged as something fell, and sent you tumbling to the ground due to the force. A massive beast unlike anything you had seen stalked you. No, this thing was no beast, it was a demon. It snarled at you with its massive teeth. Despite it being extremely large, it had a pathetically small pair of wings, which would, at best, allow it to hover for a few seconds. The hammer which it wielded, however, was large enough to crush a whale's skull. You wouldn't let a mere demon stand in your way, however, your insatiable lust for humanity would carry you, and grant you the strength and dexterity to overcome anyone and anything. You scoffed at the demon, and charged at it, fists raised. Within seven seconds, you were crushed beneath the weight of the hammer, and as you attempted to recover, the demon itself then promptly sat on you, crushing your bones beneath its rear end. You heard its distorted laughter as the world turned to monochrome, and then faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

You were charred black, and yet, you were cold, so cold. The cracked bricks on the ground were warm against your blackened skin. You had died, yet you were born again from the flame. This is your curse. The curse of the Undead. You were not deterred, however. You rose to your feet, your hunger only amplified by your defeat. You were freed from that cage, and you'd soon free yourself from this damnable asylum.

Again and again, you threw yourself at that beast. Again and again, you felt your bones shiver and shatter from the force of its blows. Sometime after your hundredth attempt, the demon, with a tremendous swing of its hammer, launched you through a doorway which you hadn't noticed. The impact ripped your eye to shreds, shattered your leg, and a considerable amount of skin had been torn off your body upon landing. Before you could mount another assault, however, the cage on the door rolled shut. You felt a familiar warmth. Behind you was another bonfire, ashes surrounding it in all its glory. Blood leaked from every inch of your body as you limped to the ash; and just before you collapsed, your hand ignited the space around the sword. Your wounds closed, your leg reset itself, and even your eye returned to form. You were still in your Hollow form, however, peeling skin and all, so you departed to regain your humanity.

You came to a hallway, with another Hollow at the end of it. An arrow found its way into your chest as you once again blindly charged at him. Another found its way into your skull moments after, and once again, you felt the embrace of death. You woke again, cold and alone. It dawned on you that brute force alone would solve nothing, and you'd be brutalized time and time again. When you next approached the hallway, you did so slowly. The bowman at the end of the hall released his arrow, as he did before, but missed his mark. You pressed the advantage, using the extra moment you had to dive into a busted open cell on your left. In it, you found several pieces of wood bound together by strings and a large slab of rock. These barbaric, decrepit tools suited you well. Though strength alone wouldn't carry you to the ends of the earth, it would deliver you from this hell.

You charged from your refuge and into the fray, using your makeshift shield to deflect the arrows that were shot at you. Before you could reach him, however, the archer fled through a hallway on your left. You gave chase, prepared to destroy him for impeding your progress. He stood at the end of the hallway, attempting to wrench open a door. The door was heavy, and by the time he would open it, you would be upon him, so he drew his blade. A broken one, much like your old weapon. With a wretched grin, you charged at him, easily breaking his guard with a strike to the wrist. While he recoiled, you shattered his skull with your club. As you opened the metal door, you made sure to kick your bleeding, broken quarry's carcass.

You were up on a balcony now, and the hammer-toting demon could be seen from where you stood. You grimaced. Even with a proper weapon, you weren't sure you could defeat it. Still, it was your only option. You could be crushed and murdered time and time again, and you would still fight. To your right was another set of stairs. When you ascended about halfway up the staircase, you noticed a large, round object at the top. Before you could react, the boulder rolled down the stairs and bowled you over, causing you to get scalped on the stairs, rip one of your ears off, and fracture your spine. The Hollow that rolled the boulder cackled, satisfied with his work. Your broken form rose, vomiting blood as it limped away. The wall behind you collapsed in the ambush. You limped through the crater, hoping to find another bonfire to lick your wounds at.

You instead found a knight, the one that saved you. He reclined on a piece of the roof, which maintained a large hole just above him. "Oh, good, I'm glad to see you're alive," he forced out as you entered. He appeared to be gravely wounded.

"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission. I have but one request: that you hear of my purpose."

Though you were quickly losing blood and your vision began to fade, you nodded your head.

"Very well; it's been passed down through my family, a certain prophecy. The Fate of the Undead. 'Make pilgrimage from the Asylum, and ring the Bells of Awakening. Then, the way to Sen's Fortress shall be revealed.' Perhaps I am not that Undead. However, I will not hinder you on your journey." He reached into his pouch and withdrew a flask with a bright yellow liquid. "Here, take this. Estus, an Undead favorite," he said. Though you were cautious of this potion, you took it from him drank, since you were to die within moments anyway. The moment the sugary, viscous liquid slithered into your throat, your wounds began to heal themselves, much like when you approached the bonfire. "Now go, I, Oscar of Astora, would hate to bring harm to you," the knight said before falling eerily silent. With your wounds healed, you took his advice and left the room.

Of course, the first thing you did when you emerged from the hole in the wall was run up the stairs and bash the brains out of the bastard who nearly killed you. Being in that cell had made you vindictive after all. After going through another door, you found yourself outside, on the ramparts. Another set of foes faced you, one with a bow, and another with a club such as yours, but you wouldn't be deterred. Taking your weapon in both hands, you brought the thing down hard on one of them. While the other was priming an arrow, you drew your shield once again, blocking it. He pulled out a broken sword once you were too close for ranged combat. He swung the sword at you, but with a dexterous parry, you broke his guard, and subsequently his jaw. You pivoted on your heel to face the wall of fog. There was another room further down the ramparts, but that would lead to just another part of the asylum. You gulped hard, and held your flask close to you.

The fog wall took you to a familiar spot. You found yourself just above the large courtyard where the demon took your life so many times. He was still there, gazing up at you with that snarl of his. You felt a great heat rise from within you. You could win. With a great roar, you jumped from the platform, right onto the head of the demon, where your club found its mark. Blood sprayed from its forehead as you withdrew your bloodied club and leaped to the ground. It cocked its arms back the moment you landed, and swung its hammer at you. You were flung across the room once again, but, your shield deflected the majority of the blow, allowing you to land on your feet. You charged at the recoiling demon and swung at its stomach several times. The hemorrhaging caused it to vomit blood and bile all over the room. Pressing the advantage, you scaled up its back and tail to reach its head while it was momentarily incapacitated. The demon took flight and threw itself into the walls in an attempt to shake you off, but you held firm to its scales. Once at its head, you continued to strike it, targeting especially its beady eyes. With a final crack to the head, the demon's wings stopped flapping, and it fell to the ground, covered in blood. You leapt from its head, triumphant. Even a colossus could be felled by effort.

Your body groaned and ached as you finally pushed through the massive door to your freedom. You took your first steps out of the asylum slowly. The skies were grey, and before you was a small hill. There was nothing beyond it. Your eyes welled with tears of anger at the sight. You let out a screech as you sprinted up the hill. There had to be more. You couldn't have toiled for nothing! Before you reached the peak, however, you slowed. You heard the flapping of wings once more, from just beyond the hill. Caution overtook you. You were in no hurry to die once again. You peered into the abyss of clouds once at the top. Suddenly, a massive raven sprang from below. Before you could draw your weapon, you were enveloped in its wings as it whisked you away to the land of the Lords; to Lordran. Like a moth to a flame, your wings will burn in anguish. You may be broken, battered, and destroyed by this twisted world, but you will forever seek fire. Go, my vessel of atonement, seek your destiny.


End file.
